The Last Diaper
by rhapsodybree
Summary: It's the small things in life. Calleigh/Eric future fic.


Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

****************

Several things brought Calleigh and Eric joy – especially since becoming parents – but Calleigh was not afraid to admit that the one of the happiest moments had been this very morning: throwing out the last diaper. It had been six and a half years since they'd put the first nappy on Wylie Erikka, and since then they'd had nappies in every size, shape and form – but now no more. Granted, the newly four year old Amity Kaylla would still need night pants on occasion, but that was manageable. Diapers were now a thing of the past.

So they thought.

Revelling in this little 'day of celebration' Calleigh kissed and hugged her daughters good bye as they left the house with their father on the way to school. Working on the same team as her husband wasn't an option, and so she'd been moved to work purely in the ballistics lab, which also meant no external crime scene visits for her. She and Eric tried their hardest to always have someone home with the girls: where possible, he did the school drop offs and she did the after school care pick up in conjunction with less hours at the lab.

It was a good day, and she couldn't stop the grin spreading across her face as she headed out to reception for a meeting with an FBI Agent at 11am to assist them on the ballistics of a case. Making her way down to the lobby, she smiled and greeted the young agent waiting by the desk. Thinking to herself inwardly that the agents were getting younger and younger each time she sees them, Calleigh pressed button for the elevator, and when it finally arrived, stepped in after the agent.

Accepting the file that he hands her, the young agent nervously makes small talk as she looks over the paperwork. Quickly identifying the bits of information she required, she noted the crime scene photographs before she reached for the small plastic bag that housed the unidentifiable bullet casing. But before she can hold it up for a closer look, she suddenly she feels claustrophobic in the small space and nausea builds within her. Looking at the numbers flashing above her as they move up the floors, she has to prevent herself from retching as they seem to flick over painfully slowly.

She ignores the concerned look and query of the young man beside her as she leans against the cool wall, gripping the bar on either side of her - the file still in her hand - and puts her head back as she breathed in steadily, trying to keep calm. Her head drops to her chest as the nausea fails to abate. Doors finally open, she gulps in the fresh air, threw the file at the agent and ran for the nearest ablutions with her hand covered over her mouth.

Stomach empty and nausea somewhat abating, Calleigh braces herself over the sink as she takes in her tired features in the mirror in front of her. She felt like crap. She hadn't felt this bad since ... No. Squeezing her eyes and taking in her form with intense scrutiny she wondered if she looked any different. Sure, her bra hadn't quite fit these last few days, but she'd just put that down to needing a new one. And she'd noticed a slight weight gain, but had put that down to the stress of juggling her family and professional life. Running through her mental calendar, she realised she can't remember the last time she had her period. But then again, that bone-dead tiredness she'd been feeling really should have been an indicator.

The revelation that she was most likely pregnant once again was met with another urge to be sick. Lifting her head from the toilet bowl minutes later, she hastily stood up and wiped her mouth as she leaned against the cool wall. She and Eric had discussed children, and had decided that after Amity was born, they were happy with two kids and their little family of four. But it would appear that Mother Nature had different plans for them.

Her suspicions were confirmed two days later: she was eleven weeks pregnant.

When she received the phone call from her doctor, she had almost finished her shift. Watching the slowly ticking second hand as it made its way around the clock, she was out the door like a flash when it struck 12. Picking up the girls from after school care, she made her way home. Wylie and Amity flew by her in the front door: Wylie for the diorama that she had been painstakingly building for the past few days – without any help! as she had imperiously declared – and Amity out the back for her precious swing. She knew they'd both rather be swimming, but they knew better than to ask their mother. That was a job for Daddy.

Emptying out their school bags, she left the containers in the kitchen before dumping the bags in the hall. Heading up to her bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed. She'd just sit here for a little while...

The next thing she remembered was waking up to the sensation of someone in the room. Struggling to open her eyes, she can sense the warm, familiar heavy hand resting on her thigh, and when her eyes finally obey her command and open, she finds herself looking into the dark worried eyes of her husband seated on the edge of the bed.

Smiling tiredly, she marvelled that he wasn't supposed to be home for another three hours, and yet here he was. _Why was it so dark?_ Calleigh flew up from her semi-seated position on the bed. 'Where are the girls?'

Eric was quick to reassure her as he brushed her hair away from her face. 'They're fine. Our eldest daughter decided that since you were otherwise indisposed, she'd do dinner,' said Eric wryly. 'She made jam sandwiches. The pair of them are currently in the bath together.'

'I can't believe I fell asleep,' moaned Calleigh as she tried to get one hand free, but looking down found her movements limited by her youngest daughter's blanky – the same yellow blanket that she could not live without from the day she had been given the present just hours old by Horatio 'Uncle H' Caine.

'Amity's idea,' interjected Eric into her thoughts as he tucked her in and braced himself on either side of legs and looked into her face. 'I take it that you have something to share with me then?'

'Yeah. 22 August.'

And that is all it had taken. Even though it hadn't been on the cards, Eric was ecstatic that he was going to be a father for a third time. But his enthusiasm was rivalled by Wy and Am's reaction when they told them. Wylie had some recollection of Amity as a baby, but Amity was well used to being the baby of the family. Her two girls were two and a half years apart, but most people seemed to think that they were twins: Wylie had her features (with a slightly darker skin tone), whilst Amity was every inch her father, except for her eyes. But where their looks were different, they made up for in similar height. Poor Wylie had received her small stature, whilst Amity was shooting up like sprout. By the time Amity was three, she was the same height as her older sister.

Standing in the lab three months later, she rubbed her belly ruefully as she concentrated on the bullet in front of her. Her body had never quite been the same post-pregnancy, and as her curves filled out once again and her belly grew, she found that baby number 3 was Grand Central Station. Eric loved to run his hands over their unborn child – especially when they were cuddled in bed together – whilst Wylie and Amity had taken to the habit of patting her swollen abdomen and chatting away to their unborn sibling whenever they had the urge – which was a lot.

Grinning, her mind sidetracked off into a little daydream as her eyes glazed over and she looked unseeingly at the screen in front of her. Upon discovering that she was pregnant was again, she and Eric traced back the days for the possible date and circumstances of conception. It hadn't taken them long to remember it.

_She'd pulled the late shift in the Ballistics Lab and when she pulled into the driveway, it was dark. It was nice having someone to come home to, though it looked like Eric hadn't quite managed to be awake for her arrival home if his lack of movement on the couch at the sound of the door shutting was any indication. _

_Dropping her bag and coat near the edge of the couch she took a moment to look down at her husband who sat propped up on the couch, head at an awkward angle and some papers strewn around him. Gathering up the papers she noted some of the girls' drawings amongst a few work things. Smiling, and with the papers neatly stacked, she eased herself onto the couch next to him._

_She was feeling naughty._

_Running her hand up his leg, she eased herself over to straddle his form, thankful that she had worn pants today. Slowly grinding herself against his nether regions, her husband's form still sleeping below her, she ran her hands under his polo shirt and revelled in the smooth skin of her lover. Retrieving her hands out from underneath she bit her bottom lip as she ran her hands up over the shirt and up to his neck and leaned in to kiss the man below her. Her plan was halted by two strong hands and she looked up to find herself looking into the sleep hazed, but nonetheless aroused, eyes of Eric Delko. _

_Looking into his dark eyes, she smiled as she leant down to kiss him, no words spoken. But she can't get any closer as he blocks her movements. Slightly annoyed, she once again looks up into the teasing eyes of Eric Delko. Play fighting for a while and rolling along the length of the couch, she was thankful she'd already moved the papers. Their escapades ended when she found herself straddling his lap once again, both breathing heavily, as she held his arms back up against the couch. She knew that he could easily break her hold if he so desired, and she revelled in the power she held over this man of hers._

_She didn't object when he slides one hand free and runs his hand through her hair, mussing it in his path to her neck. Destination reached, he pulled her willing form to him as their tongues duelled for supremacy. _

_Whereas before children this scene would most likely have then segued into a scene reminiscent of a Hollywood film where the camera pans around and the last image you see is clothes flying into the air before their entwined hands stretched over the arm and moans filled the room, it was nothing like reality. Their sex life was still existent, but two young girls in the house had certainly put a limit on the available locations to undertake this most pleasurable exercise. _

_The need to be naked was secondary to the need to be one with each other. Both got to work on their own pants before she straddled him once more and pulled him in for a heated kiss. They wasted no time as she lifted herself and slowly impaled herself on his erect member. His hands came to grip her hips as she built a rhythm. 'God you feel good. You never stop feeling good,' rasps Eric, his breath hot on her neck._

_It was hard, it was quick and it was oh so good. The need to be quiet and the possibility of being caught only heightened their senses. _

She was brought out of her thoughts by the arrival of the man she had just been fantasising about. 'Hey babe you look like you're a mile away. What're you thinking about?'

'Oh, just a certain incident about six months ago,' she responded nonchalantly and was gratified to see him blush and swallow with a furtive look around. 'That's just cruel Calleigh – now I'm going to have that image stuck in my head all day.'

'Maybe I can give you a repeat performance tonight,' she said seductively as she stood up and passed him by with a small touch to his cheek. 'Counting on it.' She heard the muttering behind her before her husband caught up and placed a hand on the small of her back to escort her to Horatio's office.

The night didn't happen: By the time everyone was home, bathed, fed and otherwise looked after she was exhausted. The closest Eric got to sex that night was pulling her close back against his form and wrapping his arms around her – just like he did every other night.

There was something about waking up in the morning in Eric's arms. His hands were never in the same position once: her legs, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her hair, her hip. She swore that he had a sixth sense about him, as no matter what time she woke up, he was always awake just seconds later as he mumbled a good morning and leant down to kiss her. Knowing that once they arise from the bed, the day will run away from them, they both enjoy those few precious moments together.

He was also most obliging whenever she required a massage. Never mind morning sickness, back pains were the bane of her existence this pregnancy. Orders for massages were increasingly frequent as the months passed and her husband's talented fingers were called upon to ease the pain. It had actually gotten to a point where Eric would seek her out on his lunch break at work and give her a massage in the lab. Poor Wolfe had walked into her lab on one particular lunch time. The poor boy hadn't known what to do when confronted with her moans and Eric standing closely behind her. She hadn't really had an opportunity to find out either as he had swiftly left the room!

She was bigger with this pregnancy than with the girls, and after the doctor had repeatedly reassured her that there was only one child within her, she deduced that she was having a boy. When Mother's Day had rolled around this year in May she had been five months pregnant, but as she woke up to find her bed comandeered by her husband and two very enthusiastic children who had pulled up her top to below her sensitive breasts and were rubbing her belly, she mused that she looked like she was seven months pregnant. So what did that mean she was going to look like at nine?

Big.

Colbee Mikah Duquesne Delko was born on 14 July 2016 – five weeks early and five days before his sister's seventh birthday – making it a concerned dash to the hospital for his parents. He was without eyelashes and fingernails and had a case of jaundice, but apart from that he was a healthy baby. With his two daughters at home under the watchful eye of his sister, Eric held his only son in his arms as the small form slept peacefully, having just been fed by his mother. Where Wylie and Amity were definitely Daddy's girls, he knew without a doubt that this little boy was going to be a Mommy's boy. He exchanged a glance full of love with his wife who was struggling to stay awake on the hospital bed where she was propped up, but still managed a tired happy smile.

Leaving the hospital that later night as he walked to the car, he mused that he was going to have to add a particular product to their shopping list once again: diapers.


End file.
